


falling slow in the pouring rain

by watchforthorns



Series: off the books [1]
Category: Produce 101 (TV), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fairy Tale Elements, Friends to Lovers, Kinda, M/M, Soulmates, excessive mentions of troll bridges, not really more like a loose concept, trope typical violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-23 21:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20015125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchforthorns/pseuds/watchforthorns
Summary: Hangyul laughs, full-throated with his head thrown back and his eyes full of stars, and Seungyoun decides then and there that he’d brave the entire briarwood again just to see that smile again.__To say Seungyun was less than thrilled to guard the Nam sons for the Rose Festival would be an understatement. He fully expected to want to throw himself off a bridge after it all. Safe to say, he was proven wrong.





	1. the world we know turns in the wind

**Author's Note:**

> this started off as a random thought I had while laying outside with an ice pack in an attempt to get rid of sunburn (terrible idea, I know) and just sort of spiraled from there. I'm super excited to work on this (even tho i still need to update my nct fics ... hnnnggg). It's been a while since I've been inspired to write. I almost started crying when everything came flowing back like it used to when I was younger. chapter title (and fic title) from hurricane by fleurie.

_Seven times again when you are not awake_  
_Seven times the flame, too much to take_  
_The sky burns red against your skin_  
_The world we know turns in the wind_

**_Hurricane - Fluerie_ **

The country of Shima has what some may consider to be a very complex courting system for the royal family. It involves many a ball, one every Thursday to be exact, for exactly five weeks. Nobles from all over flock for the Rose Festival, regardless of interest. It’s a most romantic time, if you asked any of the maids on staff, filled with drama and heartbreak and true love.

And it’s absolutely the bane of Seungyoun’s existence.

❃

“You’re in charge of guarding the Nam sons,” Commander Kim told him at the guards’ morning briefing, handing him papers with the necessary information and keys to their rooms should he need them.

Seungyoun takes the items with a nod and a “yes, sir,” trying hard to push down his distaste for the assignment. He hated babysitting.

“The youngest is your priority,” Kim continues, “His brother holds no stakes in line to the throne.” He pauses, as if registering his words, then sighs. “It sounds cruel, I know, but that’s how nobles work. You understand, right Cho?”

Seungyoun bites down a snappy retort and sends him a smile. He can feel his fellow guards shifting behind him, obviously just as uncomfortable as he is. “I do, sir,” he says, then give his commander a quick nod and heads towards the door.

❃ 

The Nams are staying in the west wing, just like all the other suitors.

Lord and Lady Nam have their own room, and, in addition, their own separate guards, and across the hall are their sons' rooms, conjoined by a door but still separate for the sake of privacy.

Seungyoun has his room next to theirs, with yet another door connecting his and the elder brothers. It’s for safety, though Seungyoun doesn’t think he’ll ever use it. According to the commander, his stuff has already been moved in.

Sadly.

  
After a glance over the sons’ information, Seungyoun finds that both of the boys are really only here for the formalities. The youngest, Dohyun, has yet to reach courting age, and the older brother - who wasn’t even bothered to be named on his sheet, that’s how much the nobles cared for him - wasn’t expected to make any major moves.

It was his first time at the palace, having spent most of his youth, like his brother, away at school.  
Seungyoun expects he’d spend most of his time making friends instead of finding lovers. Perhaps he should introduce the boy to Yohan. They were the same age. Plus, who wouldn’t want to meet the nation’s hero? Maybe both he and his brother would be fascinated enough that they wouldn’t give Seungyoun any trouble.

With a sigh, Seungyoun approaches Dohyun’s door and gives it a curt knock. The door swings open and, oh, the boy is taller than Seungyoun expected. The baby fat still hanging on his cheeks gives away his age, that and the awkwardness with which his stands, not sure yet how to use his body.

He stutters into a smile, confusion hanging in his eyes as he steps slightly into his room, door closing slightly as he asks if there’s anything Seungyoun needs.

Seungyoun watches as the boy's eyes wash over him, from the cuffs on his forearms to the dagger on his bicep and the sword at his hip.

The Nams are a merchant family, if Seungyoun remembers correctly, specializing in gems and fine jewelry. They were new to the noble families, no blood lineage connecting them to the royal family, only having risen the ranks fifteen or so years ago. Self-made, some would call them.

It was the boy’s first time in the palace, and his first time with a guard that wasn’t watching from afar. Seungyoun put a smile on his face, stepping back a bit to give Dohyun some more breathing room.

“Cho Seungyoun, my lord,” he said, dipping his head. That only seemed to make the boy more uncomfortable. Okay then, he was scratching formalities off the list. “I’m your assigned guard for the next five weeks."

Something seemed to click behind Dohyun’s eyes, and he swung the door open, face pink. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “My mother mentioned that, but I forgot.”

Seungyoun says a quick ‘no worries’ and the two of them find themselves standing in uncomfortable silence. 

Well, here goes nothing.

“How do you feel about a tour?” Seungyoun asks. “Like, I can show you the ballroom, the gardens, the library ...”

“Um, my apologies? I don’t know,” Dohyun mumbles.

“The stables?” Seungyoun tries. “The kitchen? They have wonderful cookies, though I’m biased cause I love cookies. Oh, there’s also the music rooms and-”

Dohyun’s eyes practically sparkle as he nearly lunges out into the hallway. “You have music rooms?” he asks.

Seungyoun nods. “All kinds of instruments there, poetry too and all that, uh, stuff?”

“I’d love to go!” Dohyun says. “Let me tell hyung!” The door shuts, leaving Seungyoun to stare blankly at the wood.

The kid was cute, he’ll give him that.

❃

It turns out that Dohyun’s brother didn’t want to come with, still tired from the trip.

“He got sick a little before we came,” Dohyun tells Seungyoun. “I think he’s still recovering.”

It’s okay, Seungyoun says to him in response. He doesn’t need to worry. He can always show his brother around tomorrow. Dohyun smiles at that, then asks if they can see the music rooms first.

Seungyoun tells him sure, but they have to stop by the kitchen to snag some cookies first.

Dohyun doesn't argue against that.

❃

The tour takes the better part of his day.

He shows Dohyun around every inch of the castle he can think of, chatting about anything funny he can remember happening in the area they were currently in. Dohyun seemed to appreciate that, drinking in all the stories with a smile as he looks around him

  
It’s only when they reach the music wing that he ignores Seungyoun, rushing ahead to look through one of the empty practice rooms. Seungyoun watches in fascination as the boy flits around the studio, trying out every instrument he can find, flipping through countless sheets of music and pulling books of poems off the walls to skim.

He puts them all back when he’s done, so Seungyoun doesn’t complain, taking a seat in the corner to polish his sword as the young boy immerses himself in the art around him.

And, okay, Seungyoun thinks, watching his reflection in the gleaming metal of his hilt, maybe this year's Rose Festival won’t be so bad after all.

❃

Seungyoun runs into Jinhyuk on his way back from dropping Dohyun off.

He doesn’t have the heart to go to his new room, not yet, and it’s too late to head out to his favorite tavern in town, so he slouches back off to the kitchens again, hoping to snag some ramyun from Eunsang if he can.

Jinhyuk, apparently, had the same idea, and now here they are, sitting in the back, swords slung over the door handle, chatting with their favorite kitchen boy as they eat.

“That was shit what Kim said to you earlier,” Jinhyuk says around slurps of broth. “I should’ve decked him then and there.”

“You’d get killed,” Seungyoun says.

Jinhyuk huffs out a “still should’ve,” and goes back to his food.

Seungyoun admires his loyalty, it’d kept the both of them alive back during the war. It was something he should’ve been rewarded for. Seungyoun was sure Seungwoo wanted to give him a title, Seungyoun knew he did, really, but even the king had limits, even when it came to people who saved his life countless times.

Seungyoun, despite his bastard status, came out of the war with the title of ‘Sir.’ Yohan, despite starting life off as a farm-hand, came out Shima’s hero, the one who slew M’et. And Jinhyuk, despite all the odds against him, from surviving the slums to surviving war itself, came out with nothing more than bad dreams and a colder view of the world.

“What happened?” Eunsang asks.

Seungyoun smiles and feeds him a piece of chicken from his bowl. The younger boy grins and takes it, chewing happily.

“Kim said some rude shit about one of my charges,” Seungyoun says. “Then he tried to say I should understand why since he’s from the slums and I’m the Yangs' bastard.”

Jinhyuk sighs. “He hasn’t seen a real fight a day in his life and yet he gets to be called commander.”

Seungyoun elbows him. “You never know who’s listening. Don’t talk crap.”

“I’d call it less crap and more truth but go off I guess,” Jinhyuk says, before going back to slurping his noodles.

Eunsang just stares, wide-eyed and impressionable, and Seungyoun feels the sudden urge to change the subject lest the boy think it’s okay to talk bad about superiors in the castle.

“How’s your charge?” Seungyoun asks.

Jinhyuk makes a face. “I got Kim Wooseok.”

Seungyoun winces. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Jinhyuk says. “They saw how well I did last festival with Seungwoo, so now that he’s out of the equation they decided, ‘hey, let’s not give Jinhyuk a break and assign him to the most sought after bachelor. Again.’

Eunsang just slides him a cookie. Jinhyuk takes it with a thanks.

“At least,” Seungyoun says. “Lord Kim doesn’t like women. I remember dealing with Seungwoo was even more of a pain with both guys and girls going after him.”

Jinhyuk shakes his head. “Got like three of them that came up to him today. I swear that man’s been trained black and blue. I dunno how he didn’t snap at them.”

Seungyoun wants to snap back that Wooseok was third in line to the throne and obviously had been trained ‘black and blue’ when it came to manners, but Jinhyuk most definitely already knew this, having to deal with all the man's suitors so far.

“At least he’s not a troublemaker,” Seungyoun says instead.

Jinhyuk huffs at that. “It’s been like twelve hours since he arrived, Seungie. Only time will tell if he’s a pain in my ass or not.” He groans, burying his head in his hands. “And I still have all those newbies to train, too. Ugh, why does life hate me?”

Seungyoun laughs. “Maybe it’s all those branches you cut down whenever we march through the forest?”

“It’s not my fault they hang so low!”

“They don’t hang low, Hyuk, you’re just freakishly tall.”

Eunsang giggles at that, and Jinhyuk groans again. “Great, now you’ve got one of my favorite dongsaengs against me.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s against you,” Seungyoun says.

Eunsang just smiles and passes him another cookie.

❃

Seungyoun’s on his way to his new room in the west wing when he hears footsteps come up behind him. He turns quickly, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The man following him backs up slightly at the sight of it, eyes flickering between Seungyoun’s hand and face. “Sorry,” he says, voice low and scratchy. “I just wanted to ask for some directions.”

Seungyoun blinks. “Sure. Where to?”

“The west wing?”

The irony of it all doesn’t slip past Seungyoun, but he shrugs nonetheless, letting out a quick “I’m headed there too” and then suddenly they’re both walking in silence. Seungyoun watches him as they walk, side by side as if the man wasn’t necessarily expecting him to lead the way, more so as if they were old friends taking a stroll.

What seemed weirder was that most nobles, which is what Seungyoun was assuming the man was, considering his lodging area, enjoyed walking ahead of their guards, only ever turning back to look at them when they expected a response to a question.

Not to mention the fact that he was out by the workers' entrance to the kitchen.

“Did you miss dinner?” Seungyoun asks.

“Not really,” the man says. “The families didn’t have a meal together tonight, the maids brought food to our doors.”

“Then why were you by the kitchens?”

The man smiles, lets out a sound between a sigh and a laugh alongside it. His shoulders jolt with the noise as if his body couldn’t contain his mirth. “Was I?” he says. He shakes the bag in his hand, something Seungyoun didn’t pay much attention to once he deemed it harmless. “I was coming back from the physician. Another guard brought me there but left before he could take me back.”

“Damn useless guard that is,” Seungyoun says, turning a corner and heading for the stairs.

The man smiles. “Who knows? Maybe he’s off to slay a dragon.”

Seungyoun snorts. He’s slain dragons before. It took ten men and a shit ton of neck chopping, and only the guy who got the final swing in got the glory. Safe to say, it’d been Seungwoo each and every time they’d fought one.

Not like it mattered to Seungyoun. A beloved king was the best king, and he’d do everything he could to help Seungwoo acquire that status more so than he already had.

The man smiles next to him, bright and lively, and Seungyoun wonders why he’d ever thought he could be a threat in the first place. Aside from the muscles, of course.

“What’s your name?” Seungyoun asks.

“Hangyul. You?”

“Seungyoun.”

Hangyul smiles at that, hums and goes back to climbing the stairs.

They walk in silence, more comfortable than before, and Seungyoun found himself not really paying attention to where he was going, muscle memory carrying him instead as he stared at Hangyul.

The more Seungyoun watched him, the more he realized just how beautiful he was. Which sounded creepy, even to himself, but it was true.

It’s not that he didn’t notice at first, it’s just that, after years and years of living and working in the castle, he was more used to the nobles standard of beauty: pretty, lithe, seductive. Small things you could fit in the palm of your hand and gasp and coo over as if they weren’t human. And if not small and adorable, then dripping with sensuality and slyness, like a siren in the water.

Hangyul is on the shorter end, but he isn’t anything ‘cute,’ nor is he oozing sex like some people - cough, Seungwoo, cough. He’s built strong, far stronger than most nobles, with a set jaw and a strong face.

He’s handsome, Seungoun realizes, something unconventional here in the palace. Handsome belongs to the workers maids giggled over or the soldiers training shirtless in the courtyard. It has no place with the nobles, soft and unmarked by the world.

Seungyoun wonders briefly if Hangyul had served, too. Maybe they’d met once, on the battlefield.

“Do you know how to get to your room from here?” Seungyoun asks.

Hangyul nods. “You don’t have to stay,” he says.

“It’s okay. My rooms around here too. I’m on guard for one of the families.” He smiles down at Hangyul. “Could I walk you to your room?” Hangyul stares at him, wide-eyed, and Seungyoun backtracks, plastering a wide grin on his face. “For safety reasons, of course. Don’t know if any dragons are around.”

Hangyul laughs at that. “It’d have to be a damn tiny dragon.”

“Who knows?” Seungyoun tries, bumping his shoulder against Hangyul's. He’s warm, even through his clothes. “Maybe it’s a baby. We could nab it a golden pacifier and chuck it in the king's room, lord knows he keeps up with enough kids.”

Hangyul laughs again, full-throated with his head thrown back and his eyes full of stars. He looks gorgeous, ethereal.

It can’t have been more than twenty minutes since they met and Seungyoun would do anything just to see that smile again. He’d brave the entire briarwood again, would fight M’et again, would trudge around that damned castle again to help Seungwoo find and wake Byungchan.

“Hey,” Seungyoun says. “On Thursday, at the ball, would you wanna-”

“Seungie!”

May the spirits curse you, Kim Yohan.

Seungyoun clenches his teeth and turns towards the sound of his friend's voice. “Yes?” he snips.

Yohan, approaching from around the corner., quirks a brow at the tone but ignores it anyway. He was used to Seungyoun’s antics, sadly. Seungyoun would change that if he could, but, alas, it was out of his power. “The prince wants you,” Yohan says simply.

Hangyul’s eyes go wide at that.

“Dongpyo?” Seungyoun asks, and Hangyul nearly chokes on his spit beside him. “Why?”

“Wants to see his third favorite hyung probably, I dunno,” Yohan says. Then, silently, he makes a face that says ‘you should be more formal when you’re around others.’

Seungyoun makes a face back that says ‘fuck off I found a hot boy and you ruined everything.’ Then, he says “I’m his second favorite actually,” before turning to Hangyul and sending him a soft, genuine smile. Hopefully, Hangyul understood what it meant.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Hangyul smirks and says “Who knows?” before giving a small wave and heading back off down the hall.

Seungyoun stands and stares long enough for Yohan to slither up beside him and snake an arm around his shoulders. “Whipped,” he says.

Seungyoun elbows him in the dick.

❃

The next morning, Seungyoun wakes up thirty minutes before he has to take the Nam sons to breakfast.

He passes by a few maids as he walks the short few steps down the hall to Dohyun’s door, giving them a few quick nods - which are received by hushed whispers and a few giggles. He gives a few knocks on the door.

Dohyun opens it after a few seconds, surprisingly well composed for a fifteen-year-old at eight in the morning. “Good morning, Sir Cho.”

“Morning, Dohyun,” Seungyoun says. “Ready for food?” Dohyun smiles cheekily in return, and Seungyoun decides he really, really likes this kid. “How’s your brother feeling?” he asks as Dohyun steps out into the hall, quietly closing his door behind him.

  
“Better,” Dohyun says. “He saw the castle physician yesterday after mother pestered him about it. Got lost on the way back though. Can you believe that? He had to get a guard to help him back.”

  
Seungyoun feels the smile slip slowly off his face.

  
Next to them, the oldest Nam brother’s door opens with a click, a familiar face stepping out into the hall.

  
Seungyoun blanches. Hangyul stares back at him, confusion written all over his face.

  
“Hyung,” Dohyun says. “This is Sir Cho. He’s our guard for the rest of the festival.”

Hangyul quirks an eyebrow. “Did you transfer today?” he asks hesitantly.

Seungyoun bites back a ‘what the hell is that supposed to mean’ and instead plasters on one of his fake smiles. “This is my original assignment. We missed you yesterday. Are you feeling better, my lord?”

“Yes,” Hangyul says curtly. “Much better.” He reaches out a hand. “Nam Hangyul. A pleasure to meet you.”

Seungyoun takes his hand. “Cho Seungyoun,” he responds. “It’s an honor to serve you.”

And if Hangyul squeezes his hand a little harder than that then, well, what’s Seungyoun to do?


	2. Waiting on that morning sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> new drinking game, take a shot every time someone mentions a troll bridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cue seungyul dancing around each other cause they're both idiots. the garden scene is what got this entire story rolling, in case you were interested (you probably weren't)

_You got nowhere to run_

_You wanna take a drink of that promise land_

_You gotta wipe the dirt off of your hands_

_Careful son, you got dreamer's plans_

**_soldier - fleurie_ **

The walk down to breakfast is silent and suffocating. 

Dohyun glides ahead of Seungyoun and his brother, humming a tune Seungyoun didn’t recognize. He was a smart kid, already figuring out where to turn to get to the dining hall after only being shown once.

Seungyoun tells Hangyul such, and the way his eyes sparkle with adoration has the air in Seungyoun’s chest spinning. But then Hangyul composes himself, clears his throat and says, “Of course. He’s a genius.”

And then the silence comes again.

Seungyoun doesn’t know where the charismatic flirt from last night has gone, replaced by the cold exterior that has Seungyoun flinches back every time he tries to get close. He still aches to touch, though. 

He’s known Hangyul for less than a day, maybe ten hours total, and yet he wants and wants and wants for that smile again. He’s yet to see it, only catching glimpses from the corner of his eye. Hangyul smiles at his brother a lot, like what Seungyoun would expect a proud father to look like.

It was almost similar to what Seungwoo looked like when he’d found out Dongpyo had finally mastered his knife-throwing skills while he’d been away. 

Except Seungwoo has always been more of an open book, a doorway without its door, something that’d shocked Seungyoun to his core when he’d first met the then prince in the barracks.

Hangyul, on the other hand, is a wooden fence, a boarded up window, leaving only flashes and muddled images behind him. 

He’d smile, sharp at the corner but full nonetheless, a flash of something sparking in his eyes before it went away like a match in the wind, flickered into nothing before it could catch, and Seungyoun could only ache with the need to see those stars blazing again.

Seungwoo said that the moment Byungchan opened his eyes in that crusted cottage, surrounded by the briarwood and a clusterfuck of very confused, very eager-to-embarrass soldiers, that he’d known. 

He said it felt like standing on the sun.

Seungyoun felt like he’d stared into the sun, just once, vaguely yesterday. 

Now, though, he’s just staring at a man and a boy, all too eager to get to food that they’re nearly opening the doors themselves and holy shit -

Seungyoun lunges forwards, putting himself between Dohyun and the door. “Hi,” he says, a nervous smile stretched on his face. “Totally forgot to tell you, but please don’t do that. You’ll look like an idiot and I’ll definitely get fired.”

Dohyun blinks at him. Hangyul snorts.

“We can get the doors ourselves,” he says, another one of his smirks bubbled on his lips. Or maybe that was just his face. 

“You can but you shouldn’t,” Seungyoun says, grabbing at the handle and yanking the mahogany open. “Protocol. I open all doors. Less stabbings that way.”

Dohyun blinks at him. “Wha-”

“Long story, ask Hyunbin. Now head inside please this door is really heavy.”

Hangyul snorts and mutters something under his break but walks in anyways, stepping to the side to wait for Dohyun to come through. 

Seungyoun follows them, and it’s only when the doors close behind him that servants sweep into their space, guiding the brothers to their seats. 

They’re surprisingly close to the head of the table, though Seungyoun assumes that has to do with the fact that Kim Wooseok is there, the second seat from Seungwoo as he should be, and Seungwoo knew Jinhyuk needed somebody - read: Seungyoun - there to keep himself sane while dealing with Wooseoks suitors.

The Nams give quick bows to Seungwoo, Seungyoun following close suit, before taking their seats. Dohyun slides in next to Dongpyo, who smiles and introduces himself. Across from him is Byungchan, who also greets the boy warmly. 

Wooseok, next to Byungchan and flanked by a very tired looking Jinhyuk, greets them both with a nod of his head before going back to nursing his water.

Seungyoun stands between Hangyul and Dohyun, about a foot behind their chairs, and winks at Seungwoo. The king snorts and rolls his eyes.

“Good morning, Seungyoun,” he greets. “How is your new room suiting you? Did you rest well?”

Seungyoun smiles. “I thought we all agreed that we’d all be able to sleep anywhere after that night spent hanging from the troll bridge.”

Dongpyo leans back, eyes wide. “You haven’t told me that story yet.” He glances back at Seungwoo. “Is this the first or second troll bridge?”

“The third,” Seungwoo says, grabbing for his coffee. Yohan, stationed behind him as his guard for the day, shakes his head at the memory. The doors open again as more nobles pour into the room. “And if anyone’s going to tell you that story, it’s going to be Jinhyuk. He’s the one that got us out.”

All heads turn to face Jinhyuk, who smiles at Dongpyo and chirps out a soft ‘later, kiddo’ with a wink. 

More people come to sit at the table, and within the next five minutes it's full. Song Yuvin slides down into the seat next to Wooseok with a soft smile, followed by a few of his sisters and Lord Yang. 

Seungyun winces and tries not to make any eye contact, but Yang catches his eye anyways, a grin curving into his face. He opens his mouth and Seungyoun dreads the very idea of even having to hear his voice this early in the morning, but then Seungwoo clears his throat and begins his welcome speech.

The following half-hour or so of measly chatter and mealtime goes pleasantly, to Seungyoun’s surprise. This time last year, Lady Miyawaki had a face full of yogurt after one of the older suitors started a food fight.

That had been something.

(God, was Seungyoun happy Seungwoo had found Byungchan outside of the festival. That was a hot mess even without the king’s ‘soulmate’ thrown into the mix.)

“Lord Nam,” Lord Yang calls. 

Seungyoun realizes maybe he’d been rejoicing too soon. Both Hangyul and Dohyun turn as they’re called, obviously surprised anyone would be asking for them this early on. 

Yang smiles. “My apologies. I meant the legitimate Lord Nam.” 

Seungyoun’s hand tightens on his sword as he stares his half-brother down. Just breathe, he tells himself. Dohyun seems to have the same idea, taking in a deep breath before responding.

“Yes, Lord Yang?”

“I heard that you have an interest in spoken song,” Yang says. Seungyoun can practically feel Dohyun’s body freeze. “I was wondering just what influenced you to gain such an attraction to such a lowly commoner game.”

Yang glances over at Hangyul, who currently looks three seconds from popping a vein, and nods as if only just noticing him. 

The insult is obvious, hidden behind sweet words that fool no one. 

Their end of the table goes silent, and soon the other end follows, albeit more confused. Even Seungwoo seems at an odds of what to say. Byungchan looks livid next to him, but Seungwoo just grabs his husband’s hand and squeezes.

Seungyoun’s eyes dart to Jinhyuk, who looks just as shocked as the rest of the table. Jinhyuk catches his stare, obviously not having expected just a direct jab this early into the festival, and makes a ‘don’t look at me what the fuck am I supposed to do’ kind of face.

Seungyoun just sighs and steadies himself, leaning forward to rest a hand on the back of Dohyun’s chair. 

It wasn’t an actual touch, nothing noticeable to the naked eye, but the guards around him shift at the movement. Dohyun seems to notice it too, tilting his head up to look at Seungyoun with a small, awkwardly pained smile.

Seungyoun sends him a bright grin back.

Next to Dohyun, Hangyul shifts, jaw tight. His hands are balled into fists on the table, knuckles whiter than the table cloth. 

Sungyoun glances at him, then back to the guard looming behind Lord Yang. The guard, a new recruit from one of the many high-class merchant families, glares at Seungyoun, eyes reading ‘control your charges.’

Seungyoun smiles - all lips, no teeth - and bears down on him with the nastiest look he can muster. ‘Fucking try me,’ he mouths.

Most of the guards see it, maybe a few nobles as well, because Lord Song bites down a smile and finds sudden interest in the mulberry braised duck in front of him. Jinhyuk, free and raised like a true person with actual emotions, downright snickers. 

Yang’s guard goes red.

Surprisingly, it isn’t Seungwoo, watching the whole thing with an appreciative, albeit exhausted look, that steps in. 

No. 

It’s the crown prince.

“One of my dear friends actually practices spoken song,” Dongpyo says, eyes twinkling at the idea of Yang’s soon to come humiliation. Across from him, Byungchan practically beams with pride. “I find it to be a poetic and powerful form of art.”

Yang opens his mouth to say something, the pink on his cheeks making him look akin to a frying fish as he gasps for some kind of answer.

“I agree with our prince.”

Seungyoun nearly breaks his neck to stare down the table at Kim Wooseok. Jinhyuk, standing directly behind him, looks nearly as shocked as everyone else to see the man even speaking.

Wooseok smiles, tight and vicious on those pretty little lips of his. 

“It was a skill my cousin much enjoyed learning from our professor of cultures,” he says, and the world seems to disconnect around Seungyoun at the sound of his voice. It was like connecting a well-known name to a face for the first time, disjointed and off-kilter.

Wooseok turns to face Seungwoo, the king, sitting at the head of the table in all his glory and having not spoken a word since he greeting earlier. “He is quite good at it if I do say so myself.”

Seungwoo bats his eyelashes.

Yang chokes on air.

And Seungyoun, feeling both the Nam brothers loosen next to him, decides this years’ Rose Festival will be something to be remembered.

❃

The breakfast, although separate from the feast given to the festival’s wed visitors, splits apart once again once the meals have been served. Dongpyo has an outing arranged for all the underage suitors, complete with his own set of guards so Seungyoun doesn’t have to try to split himself in half.

A few of the girls look frustrated at the idea of not being able to watch the absolute shitshow that is the first day of courting, but Kim Minkyu and Ham Wonjin seem ecstatic when Dongpyo mentions the trip to the enchanted lake.

“You’ll enjoy it,” Hangyul tells Dohyun when he glances over at his brother hesitantly. 

Around them, the older suitors get up to approach each other, all hesitant smiles and sharp eyes. Hangyul stays seated with Dohyun. Across from them, Kim Wooseok doesn’t move. 

Seungyoun watches in amusement as Jinhyuk steps between his charge and a few older looking men, Yang included in their ranks. Jinhyuk looks completely done with everything as he explains that Wooseok has yet to get up from breakfast and therefore cannot court yet.

Yank squints at him, puckering up his mouth as if ready to spit. His guard grabs his shoulder and steers him out of there before all of Jinhyuk can murder what little there was of Yang.

Seungyoun tunes back in to the Nams’ conversation.

“I hear spirits live there,” Hangyul is saying. “They might be able to show you how to play some reed pipes.”

Dohyun lights up at that, turning in his seat to grin at Seungyoun, who just raises an eyebrow in surprise at the boy’s eagerness. “Would they really?”

Seungyoun shrugs. “I dunno. Last time I was there I threw up in the water. I don’t think I’ve seen enough of their good side to know if they would.” At Dohyun’s horrified expression, he adds, “Ask Dongpyo. They love him.”

Hangyul leans his head back to look at Seungyoun, the column of his neck stretching out beautifully. Seungyoun tries not to stare. “How many crazy stories do you have?” Hangyul asks.

“Too many,” Seungyoun says, swallowing around a dry tongue. “A war and a couple dozen quests does that to you.”

❃

Dongpyo takes the rest of the young suitors after that, leaving Seungyoun alone with Hangyul, who’s been picking at his food for the past five minutes.

“Not to sound rude,” Seungyoun says. “But may I ask why you’re still pretending to eat, Lord Nam?”

Hangyul doesn’t even glance back at him. “Lady Lee has been staring at me for the past thirty minutes, and I really don’t feel like dealing with courting right now.”

Seungyoun just hums. He’s not mad at that, not at all. Less time spent following Hangyul around on petty little dates meant more time to figure the boy out. “She’s pretty,” he says, nearly biting down off own tongue for urging Hangyul on. “And quite taken with you.” 

Hangyul huffs out a laugh. “She’s not my type.”

“Too old?”

“Too woman.”

Across the table, Seungyoun watches Jinhyuk try, and fail, to hold back a laugh. In front of him, Kim Wooseok’s eyes shine with something Seungyoun would dare to label as mirth. 

Hangyul sighs, side-eyeing Lady Lee, who, at this point, has taken to leaning over the back of her chair and staring directly at Hangyul. “Could you turn her down for me?” Hangyul asks, actually turning in his seat for the first time the whole morning, staring Seungyoun down with those damn eyes.

Seungyoun would rather face a fourth troll bridge than deal with Lee, but Hangyul’s eyes wane like the moon and he just can’t bring himself to say no. 

So he sighs out a ‘sure’ and Hangyul moves to get up, chair scraping the floor as he stands.

Across from him, Kim Wooseok shoots out of his seat with a strained smile. The chair slams into Jinhyuk’s shin and he nearly goes down.

“Lord Nam,” Wooseok says as the gaggle of suitors from before rushes to his side. Jinhyuk wheezes in pain behind him. “Would you care to take a stroll with me in the gardens? I would love to hear more about your family’s business.”

Hangyul stares, wide-eyed, first at Wooseok, then at Seungyoun, then over to Lady Lee, who’s crawling over her chair now, yanking her skirts free from the wood as she tries to storm over with a grace that she simply did not have.

“I would love to,” Hangyul says with a strained voice. 

❃

The walk to the gardens is quick, punctuated by whispers and stares as the four of them breeze through the halls. 

Wooseok strides ahead, a whirlwind as he tries to escape the confines of judgment. Hangyul keeps up with him, takes one step for every two Wooseok does despite being the same height. It’s kind of funny.

(“Your charge looks like a crab.”

“Shit, he does.”)

It’s only once they hit the garden’s east entrance that Wooseok seems to relax. Jinhyuk reaches forward and grabs the door, poking a head out quickly to look for anything. He looks stupid doing it, and Seungyoun mimes a kick to his butt.

Hangyul stifles a laugh at that. 

Wooseok just outright snorts.

“You’re good,” Jinhyuk says, retracting his head like the massive turtle he is. He yanks the door open and Wooseok glides through. Hangyul hangs in the doorway, staring at Jinhyuk and Seungyoun like they’d grown mushrooms out their ears.

“And why ….” he trails off.

“Just ask Hyunbin,” Seungyoun sighs out in unison with Jinhyuk.

Hangyul just blinks but heads outside anyways. Wooseok is already asking him something when Seungyoun shuts the door behind him and Jinhyuk, and before they know it they’re heading off towards some rows of hedges.

Seungyoun chats with Jinhyuk as they watch over the nobles. 

It’s nothing new, what they talk about, but it’s still refreshing to spend time with his friend again, away from everything. Jinhyuk knows him best, knows what he’s gone through. 

Out of all the guards at the palace, only a handful had ever been in an actual battle. Most of them were nobles who’d dodged the draft somehow - mostly by finally claiming bastards as their sons and shipping them off in place of their own children.

Seungyoun knew from experience. 

Aside from that, it was those who’d been lucky enough to stay stationed in the city for the war. The nobles were too haughty for their own good, the commoners too nervous. 

Sometimes Seungyoun wonders, god forbid anything happens, just exactly how safe the city would be. The guard was rebuilding, it’s blood privileged and fresh, and sometimes Seungyoun can’t help but feel like ash among embers. 

He has Jinhyuk and Yohan and Hyunbin, and sometimes Kookheon whenever he comes back from Dongwook’s endless prophetic-driven quests. Seungwoo and Byungchan get it, but they’re not in the guard. 

There is Eunbi, but she’s always stationed off at the border. They need their strongest there after all. 

Still, Seungyoun feels like he’s always itching for something. He doesn’t miss the war, not after three years straight of it, but he does sometimes miss the quests. Definitely not the troll bridges, but certainly the quests. 

Sixteen straight months he’d been away with Seungwoo and the team, fighting and searching for a kid they’d already picked up. 

Safe to say it was a shock to see Yohan, baby farm boy, standing above M’et’s corpse, eyes wide and ribs heaving as he wielded Seungwoo’s sword.

“Should’ve seen that coming,” Seungwoo had said before falling on his ass at M’et’s serpent tale.

There’d only been a short break after that for last years’ Rose Festival, then after Seungwoo declared he wasn’t choosing a spouse from the pick, Dongwook was sending them off again to save some cursed soldier who’d been asleep for a century.

And then Seungyoun had to deal with Seungwoo and Byungchan’s stupid honeymoon stage the entire way home, all three weeks of it. 

“Do you miss it?” Seungyoun asks Jinhyuk suddenly, not taking his eyes off Hangyul and Wooseok as they examine something leafy and debate whether or not it’s a tree or a shrub. 

“I know it’s good like this,” he says. “Safe and all, you know? My mom doesn’t have to worry. I’m sure it’s the same with you and Jinwoo. But, like, do you miss it?”

Jinhyuk’s quite. Then, “Yeah. All the time.” He smiles over at Seungyoun. With all the smell of foliage and dirt surrounding them, Seungyoun thinks, for a second, that maybe they could be back in the enchanted forest.

“When I tell Dongpyo our stories sometimes I can feel what it was like,” Jinhyuk says. “I miss the campfires. Hyunbin doing those stupid charades and Kookheon breaking his foot every other week.”

Seungyoun laughs at that. “And that one time Seungwoo’s hair got enchanted and grew down to his knees.”

“Don’t forget when Yohan got the team locked in that witch's hut and we almost got baked into pie,” Jinhyuk adds.

“When Hyunbin ate that apple and almost died.”

“When Kookheon pissed off that siren and almost died.”

“When you and I got eaten by that wolf and almost died.”

Jinhyuk cackles. “Didn’t we get saved by that grandma?”

“Yeah,” Seungyoung wheezes. “She had a rusted butter knife she broke in half to use, I thi-” Seungyoun slams into Hangyul, who’d conveniently stopped in the middle of the path waiting for Seungyoun to catch up.

Hangyul smiles, exasperated but amused, and puts a hand to Seungyoun’s chest to steady him. “You need to write a book,” Hangyul says. “Like seriously. A rusted butter knife?”

Seungyoun grins, ready to launch into the story, but Wooseok cuts him off.

“Lord Nam,” he calls. 

Hangyul steps away from Seungyoun. “Yes?”

“My apologies, I don’t mean to sound rude. I have quite enjoyed your company, but I believe the shared motivation behind this little date has been achieved.” Wooseok glances around at the emptiness of the garden surrounding them. 

“Agreed,” Hangyul says. “Thank you for your company, Lord Kim.”

“And you yours,” Wooseok says. “I wish you a speedy recovery. And good luck to your brother in his musical adventures. I hear he is quite good.”

“He is.”

Wooseok smiles, something genuine lurking behind it for once, before he steps away, calling for Jinhyuk. The guard is there in a second, and Wooseok just blinks up at him, humor flickering behind his eyes. 

“Would you care to walk with me?” he asks. “I’d love to hear about that troll bridge.”

Jinhyuk lets out an exasperated sigh but follows him anyways, already launching into the prelude about how Kookheon had managed to catch the team in a badger dam.

When they’re gone, Seungyoun turns to Hangyul. “Would you like me to show you back to your room?” Seungyoun asks. “You’ve been sounding kinda sick again.”

“That’s just my voice,” Hangyul says with a sigh, glancing at the fauna around him. “How about a quick tour?” he asks. “I wanna see the gardens.”

❃

They stroll for what feels like forever, Seungyoun hanging a few paces behind Hangyul as he wanders the trails, brushing his hands over shrubs and grabbing at leaves as he passes. 

Every once in a while he stops to rub at some flower petals, an expression nothing short of wanton as he stares the colors dow. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Seungyoun says. 

Hangyul looks up from the snapdragons he’d bent down to examine. The sun bears down hot on them, and Seungyoun can see the beginnings of pinkness blotching over Hangyul’s cheeks from the heat. The boy doesn’t seem to mind, basking in the light like a dazed cat.

“The workers do an amazing job,” Hangyul says, glancing around. “How do they manage to keep everything so healthy? There’s just … so much.”

Seungyoun stifles a laugh at his eloquence. 

He was right, though. The castle was literally built to fit the gardens, it’s flanking halls bending in a circle that wound round the main walking path. It almost seemed like a spiral a first, that is until the trails broke out into a grid pattern based on the seasons and plant’s needs.

“The local witches and herbalists take care of it all,” Seungyoun says. 

“They come in once a week and check up on everything, heal what they need to. The witches get access to sanctuary gardens with rare herbs, and the herbalists get whatever kind of information they need from studying all-” he waves his hand around him lazily. “-This.”

Hangyul hums in understanding. “And you know this because?”

“My squadron leader was married to one of the herbalists.” 

Hangyul stiffens a bit at that, obviously catching something in Seungyoun’s tone, but thankfully doesn’t push. 

“You’re a very interesting person, Sir Cho,” he says, getting up from watching the flower bed and turning to head over to where Seungyoun was standing. “You seem very versatile.”

Seungyoun smiles at that and tries to ignore the fact that Hangyul’s the closest to him he’s been since last night. “I guess I am,” he says. Hangyul just stares at him as if to say ‘stop being so secretive.’ 

“I trained as a bard until I was old enough to get drafted,” Seungyoun says. 

He wasn’t supposed to be drafted, he was technically considered to be from a single child household and therefore exempt from the war, but dear old dad decided that acknowledging Seungyoun as his kid was enough of a trade if it meant sending him off to the army instead of his real son. 

Not that Hangyul needed to know that.

"That's where the storytelling comes in, I guess," Seungyoun continues. "And the voice, though you don't need to hear that. I haven't practiced in years, please don't ask for a song." Hangyul smiles at that, like that's exactly what he's going to do at some point, probably in front of a crowd to Seungyoun can't refuse.

“I ended up in the same squadron as Seungwoo and the others,” Seungyoun says as if Hangyul even knew who the ‘others’ were. “After the war ended and M’et escaped, he chose us to help search for Dongwook-hyung’s prophecy boy, and then we met Yohan and that was that.”

Hangyul stares at him. “Kim Yohan?” he asks.

“Yep.”

“Kim Yohan the Chosen One?”

“Yeah.”

“The Kim Yohan that killed M’et?”

“Careful,” Seungyoun says. “Say his name any more times and he might appear from the river.”

Hangyul blinks. “Oh my god,” he gasps. “You were part of the Knights. Oh my god. You met the chosen one?!”

Seungyoun would love to add that he also bathed, ate, escaped troll bridges, and nearly died with the chosen one, but he decides that might be a bit too much for Hangyul to take at this point.

“You literally met him last night,” Seungyoun says instead, trying and failing to keep any kind of calm. “He was standing behind Seungwoo today on duty.”

Hangyul blanches. “That was him?” His voice breaks a couple octaves up, and Seungyoun would’ve winced if not for the smile that cracked his face in half from seeing Hangyul so unguarded like this.

Hangyul sputters. “But - that - he-” He clears his throat, obviously trying to gain some kind of composure. “I always thought he’d be …”

“Taller?” Seungyoun suggests.

“Less derpy looking.”

Seungyoun chokes at that. He wheezes, laughter coming out in rolls. His stomach was starting to hurt, oh god. He stumbles into Hangyul, howling as he grabs his shoulders for support. 

Yohan was never going to live this down. Never. 

It takes a few seconds but the fit subsides. “Spirits, I’m telling him that,” Seungyoun says, pulling away to look Hangyul in the eye. Hangyul just stares at him, eyes wide and cheeks red. 

Seungyoun pulls back, heat pouring into his hands from where they’re connected to Hangyul. He clears his throat. “Let’s get you in the shade,” he says. “You’re looking pink.”

Hangyul mumbles a thanks and steps away.

❃

After a quick sweep of the tree for any jealous Wooseok-lovers, Seungyoun finds a bench under one of the willows for Hangyul to rest on. He sits down, not even bothering to brush the leaves off the seat, instead just leaning back to watch the cracks of sunlight through the branches.

“Thanks again,” Hangyul says. 

Seungyoun, leaning against the tree’s trunk and watching him, just raises an eyebrow. 

“For showing Dohyun around yesterday,” Hangyul elaborates. “You made him feel comfortable, more than I ever could here.” Seungyoun opens his mouth to protest but Hangyul interrupts him again.

“Don’t bother. It’s true.” He tilts his head back to stare at Seungyoun, a ray of sunshine streaking across his nose bridge, and Seungyoun vaguely feels like he’s choking around something. “And thanks for the tour, too.”

Seungyoun tries not to melt at the small smile he sends.

“I don’t get out that much,” Hangyul says, leaning back up to watch the trees. Seungyoun just stares at his back instead. “Not like this. I’m watching Dohyun most of the time. Not to mention mother doesn’t like me going outside that much.” He rubs at the skin on his wrist.

“Allergies?” Seungyoun asks.

Hangyul shakes his head. “She doesn’t want me getting any tanner.” 

Seungyoun nearly guffaws at that. Nobles and their stupid beauty standards. Hangyul looks up at him, a smile etching its way onto his face. 

Seungyoun has started to associate that specific curl of his lips with his jokes.

“What?” Hangyul says. “Am I already that dark?”

“No.” The words burst from Seungyoun’s lips, more of a plea than an assertion. Hangyul blinks at him. He seemed more open now, not unguarded, but more free, less tied down. It’s breathtaking on him, and Seungyoun finds himself reaching out to brush a knuckle over his cheek.

“I think it suits you,” Seungyoun says, voice quiet beneath the branches that hang overhead. “It adds to your strength.”

Hangyul’s mouth parts as he stares, and it takes everything Seungyoun has to pull his hand away. 

❃

It’s maybe noon when Seungyoun takes Hangyul, exhausted from the sun and the stress of the palace, back to his room. 

Seungyoun tells him he can stand outside his door, but Hangyul insists that Seungyoun comes inside where he can at least sit down. “You’re not a statue, Sir Cho,” he chastises, moving a few pillows from his armchair to make room for Seungyoun.

Seungyoun glances around the room as Hangyul tidies up. He’s yet to move in, trunk open but not unpacked. The bed is messily made - Seungyoun assumes the maids haven’t hit this wing - and there’s a pile of books on the cushioned window seat.

Seungyoun picks at their covers to read the titles. “Journey to the West?” he asks around a laugh. “How do you manage to get through it all?”

“That’s the abridged version,” Hangyul says, not even looking up from whatever he’s putting away at his desk. “Pretty sarcastic, too. You’d like it.”

“And why’s that?”

Hangyul looks back at him, straightening up from his desk and just staring at Seungyoun. Surprisingly, it doesn't make him feel small, not like when Yang or other nobles stare him down. 

Hangyul just rolls his eyes, biting down the smile curling on his lips. “I’ve known you for half a day, Cho Seungyoun, and I’d have to be the biggest idiot not to figure out that you’re one of the funniest people in Shima.”

Seungyoun just grins, not even hiding his satisfaction. 

He wants to bottle the way Hangyul looks now, happy, comfortable, just purely himself. He’d sleep with the jar, keep it in his satchel whenever he had to ride down to the forest for another quest. He’d pull it out at night in front of the campfire and finally, Seungwoo would have a taste of his own medicine. No more Byungchan stories, not when Seungyoun has a bottle of sunshine.

Hangyul sits back on his bed and Seungyoun heads for the armchair, resting his sword against the side. 

“Dohyun really likes you,” Hangyul says after a bit, playing with the sheets on his bed.

“He came over when I got in last night. He couldn’t stop talking about this guard who was super funny and kind and didn’t laugh at him for liking spoken song and snuck him a ton of cookies from the kitchens.”

Seungyoun winces. “Sorry about the cookies.”

Hangyul just looks at him like he’s grown an enchanted forest from his shoulder. “Are you kidding me? Take him again for all I care. Maybe once he eats more he’ll stop growing up and start growing out.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works. I saw how little you ate at breakfast. If it was like that you’d be taller.”

“Hey!” Hangyul says. “Don’t question the science, okay?”

Seungyoun laughs, puts his chin in his palm, stares Hangyul down. “Oh, so you’re a scientist now, huh?”

“Who knows?” Hangyul says, eyes shining. “Maybe I could be the brains to your brawn?”

“Seems more like you’d be the brawn to my brawn.”

Hangyul goes pink at that, a nervous laugh bubbling up his throat. He looks adorable, Seungyoun thinks, a grin splitting his face.

“You’re mean,” Hangyul huffs. “Dohyun was wrong, you’re so mean.”

“I think the correct term is a flirt,” Seungyoun says. “That is if you want this to be flirting. It can be totally uncharged bro-banter if you want.”

Hangyul punches his shoulder at that. 

“Definitely brawn,” Seungyoun says, drinking up the radiance that is Hangyul’s happiness, and it hits him, then and there, that Seungwoo was right.

This feels like standing on the surface of the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick note, the Knights include all of the move team, just with yohan and seungwoo instead of hangyul and byungchan. also, seungyoun in a white shirt and black slacks with his long hair? and a sword? a fucking LOOK


End file.
